Brian's Darkness
by RosemarieCraig
Summary: Brian: forgotten, alone, dangerous. From broken little boy to serial killer. Warning: child abuse, murder
1. Chapter 1

The dark haired toddler looked out from between Mommy's legs at the screaming, raging monster. Mommy cried out and staggered sideways, and Brian gripped her leg hard. Mommy was sobbing, begging the monster to stop. She kept trying to push Brian away, but he refused to leave her side. The monster stepped closer to them and grabbed Mommy by the throat.

"I expect my dinner to be waiting for me when I get back! I expect you to do as you're fucking told! Do you fucking understand, you stupid whore?"

"Yes, yes, Joe, I understand, I swear I'll do better! Please!" She was terrified, abjectly terrified. That made Brian feel funny. A mixture of terror and sadness and anger.

"Good. Now get rid of the brat and meet me in our bedroom in five minutes."

"Do we have to-" he slapped her again, drawing more blood.

"Get a fucking move on if you don't want the kid to watch!" The monster roared. Brian dug his hands into Mommy's calf. He would not leave her.

"Come on, baby, let's go to bed, yeah? Come on, sweet heart." Mommy tried to divorce herself from his grip, but he clung on. Brian felt the hot pain long before he realised the monster had moved. His brain felt fuzzy, and he saw red blood dripping from his own head. He slept to the sounds of Mommy's screams.

Brian woke up in his bed, his head on fire. Mommy was crying in the corner, rocking slightly with each sob. Her face was smeared with blood. The monster was snoring loudly on the big bed.

"Mommy?" Brian called ever so softly. Mommy looked up, her eyes dull.

"Shh" she said, without moving.

"Mommy!" Brian repeated, with more urgency though no more volume. "My head is hurty."

"Shh". Brian gave up after that. He rocked himself to sleep again, and when he woke for the second time it was morning. The monster was gone, and it was just Mommy, sitting on the bed, staring at nothing.

"Mommy?" He whispered.

"Good morning, darling." She cracked into life, her smile not quite reaching her eyes and her bloodied face contrasting precisely. "Shall we go get some breakfast?"

"Yes please" she came over and picked him up, holding him gently and close to her. Brian gripped her hair tightly, not pulling, just holding. He felt her strangled sob wrack her body, but played along and ignored it. They went into the kitchen and Brian stared. Everything was broken. Shattered china aond glass littered the floor, boxes of cereal were knocked over and emptied on top of the spilt milk and broken eggs, Mommy set him down on the table and cried again, brushing her soft blonde hair out of her eyes. "I won't go to sleep next time, Mommy, I promise. I'll protect you."

"Oh my baby. My poor, poor baby."


	2. Chapter 2

8 months and 13 days later

It was the only time Brian had seen Mommy look happy in months. The monster stood next to her, touching the baby's face. Brian had not met his baby brother yet. He stared through the glass. How dare the monster stand next to Mommy and touch that bundle. The brother was his, not the monster's. Brian resolved never to let him touch the brother again.

"Brian?" Mommy called. Brian went to the door, but didn't enter.

"Come on in, son." The monster grinned. To the nurse, it looked average. But Brian knew it was a private smile, just for him. A smile that entailed consequences. Brian knew too much about that smile. He ignored the twist of dread in his stomach and approached the brother.

"Brian, meet Dexter, your new baby brother. Say hi, darling."

"Hi" Brian stared at the baby in awe. He was blonde haired and hazel eyed, with a curious expression, as far as babies have expressions. There was nothing remarkable about him. He was perfect. Brian reached out and touched his cheek. "Hi, Dexter."

Mommy had to stay in hospital with Dexter for a few days. The monster took Brian home. He went out during the day, leaving the three year old boy alone, but he always came back in time to dump a burger on the table before leaving for the night. Brian didn't like it alone. He wanted Mommy. He wanted Dexter. On the second day, the monster was angry. Brian didn't know why, just that he was. His eyes were dull, the whites turned red and the rings of blue darkened. Brian didn't cry out when the monster shook him, or when he hit his stomach or kicked his back. Brian didn't cry out when a small chunk of his hair was ripped from his scalp or when his face hit the table. He let out a whimper when the monster threw him onto the bed. And he sobbed when he felt the too big hands glide down his too little body.


	3. Chapter 3

The monster took Brain when they went to get Mommy and Dexter from the hospital. They both looked so pure and clean. Brian hadn't felt clean since the monster had touched him. Mommy let Brian hold Dexter while they drove home. They spent the journey staring at each other. Brian swore that he wouldn't let that pure look escape from his brother's face. He swore that the monster would never touch Dexter. He swore he would protect the pale little body from harm.

Dexter slept in Brian's room. He was supposed to be in his cot, but he cried until Brian picked him up and put him into his own bed, blocked in by the wall on one side and his big brother on the other. Within moments, the baby was asleep. Brian stayed awake for hours, taking in every detail of his brother and tuning out the shouting from his parent's room.

Dexter had grown. So had Brian, but that didn't matter to anyone. Dexter was the centre of everyone's attention expect the monster's. The monster always had time for Brian. Mommy was always busy making sure that Dexter was fed and clean and watered and happy. She spoke to him in a silly voice and played silly games with him. Brian felt forgotten. Mommy forgot his birthday that year. The monster remembered.

"The day you were born was the worst day of my life. You ruined everything, you know that? You ruined both our lives. At least the sex was good. Not like now. No. She doesn't want me any more. Can you believe, boy, that there was a time she couldn't keep her hands off me? We were in love. Really, we were. But we were just kids. Back when we could get high together, and it made everything better. It doesn't work anymore, Brian. Nothing makes it better."

The punch threw the four year old clear across the room, his body arcing up and crashing onto the floor against the wall. Dazed, Brian felt the fist rocket into the side of his head, making the world go black and then horribly bright. The blows rained down on his head and stomach, his tiny hands raised to guard his face offering him no protection. Kicks came to his back and chest, smashing him into the wall over and over and over. Blood spurted from his nose and mouth and tears poured down his bruising face. His rib gave way and burst out of his chest, breaking the skin. He felt the pain deep in his core. Not the physical pain spreading over his bruised body, but the fracturing of his soul. He saw the monster's tears, felt them splashing onto growing pools of his blood, and shared his pain. He was almost unconscious when Mommy ran into the room, clutching Dexter and screaming for the monster to stop. The blows ceased. All Brian could hear was Mommy shouting, Dexter crying and the monster sobbing as though his world had broken in two.


	4. Chapter 4

When Brian woke up, his whole body ached. His left eye would not open, no matter how hard he tried. His lip was swollen, a tooth missing. Mommy was lying beside him, and he was clutched tightly in her arms. Dexter was on her other side, his dark blonde hair ruffled, his thumb in his infant mouth.

"Mommy?"

"Hey baby" Mommy murmured through the haze of sleep.

"What happened?" Brian pulled himself closer to her.

"I love you so, so much. Everything's going to be okay now. Daddy's gone. He won't come back."

"Why not?"

"I told him he had to leave. I won't let him hurt you anymore. I should have left the first time he hit you, the first time he hit me, actually. But I didn't. And you know what?"

"What?" Brian rested his dark head on her chest.

"I'm glad I didn't. Because if I'd left, Dexter would never have happened."

"But all he does is sleep."

"That's just because he's a baby, Brian. He'll grow. And you get to be his big brother. You get to guide him through everything. You'll be his father, and his brother, and his teacher and his friend. Promise me, Brian, that you'll always stay with Dexter?" She said it with a sudden urgency that unnerved Brian.

"I promise."

"There's my wonderful boy." She kissed the top of his head, and they joined Dexter in sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

In the ten months since the monster had left, everything had changed. Dexter had learnt to walk. He couldn't talk, not yet, except to call for his big brother. He couldn't pronounce Brian, and the older boy was quite content to be Biney. The bruises had faded. All Brian had left to show for his beating was a deep purple mark on the bottom of his rib cage and a jagged scar from the homemade stitches after his rib had forced its way through his skin. They were almost a normal family. But Mommy was sad. Not sad. Scared. She flitted around the house, watching at windows and doing the same tasks over and over. Brian simply sat with Dexter. He was there to protect the boy, not Mommy. Mommy was not his responsibility. No one had ever asked him to take care of her. But everyone said to take care of Dexter. Big brothers do that, he'd been told. So the brothers sat on the rug in the living room and drew. Brian liked to draw. He used an old credit card as a ruler and drew patters. He never concentrated on what he was drawing, just on the process. Whenever Mummy saw his drawings, she bit her lip and sighed.

Brian didn't like school. The other children were too loud, too active. The teachers unnerved him. He wouldn't speak. From the moment he walked through the gates to the moment he walked out, he did not utter a single word. He liked to sit inside and draw at recess. His teacher, Miss Jenkins, didn't like his drawings. They were mostly abstract colours. Red and black and dark green scribbled on the sheets in a surprisingly disturbing clash resembling a dark, bloody nightmare. She tried to make him draw nice things. She asked him to draw his family, and got an image of Mommy cowering in a corner, the monster standing over her, fist raised, and Brian hiding under the bed. Dexter never featured in Brian's drawings. It was as though he didn't want his brother to be a part of the world he depicted. Miss Jenkins tried to get him to draw his favourite animals, and all she got was a picture of a dead cat surrounded by blood. She tried to make him draw favourite foods, and all she got was an empty table with a sad boy staring at the plate. She tried. He was transferred out of her class and into Mr Bentley's. The man was more experienced. He spoke to Mommy, and she told him all about the monster. He came to their house and had dinner every evening. He stayed in Mommy's room a lot. Brian liked him most of all the school teachers. But he still didn't talk. After a few weeks, Mommy got cross with Mr Bentley, and Mr Bentley got cross with Mommy. Brian pushed himself as far into a corner as he could go and listened.

"He's just frightened still!"

"He's sick! He needs to see a fucking doctor, Laura! Have you seen the fucked up shit he draws?"

"He's just trying to work it all out in his head. He just needs some time, okay?"

"He's almost six. He should be able to read and write properly by now. He should be able to talk to other children."

"He can read! You should hear him reading to Dexter. You've just not given him the chance."

"Well, let's give him a fucking chance then! BRIAN!" He roared. Brian cowered further into the corner.

"Biney?" Dexter said quietly, worriedly.

"It'll be okay" Brian whispered.

"BRIAN! Come here!" Bentley screamed.

"You're fucking scaring him! Leave him alone!" Mommy tried to grab his arm but he flung her off, striding towards the kitchen where Brian was hiding. He grabbed Brian by the t-shirt and yanked him out of his spot. "James, this isn't right, leave him alone! You're his teacher, you can't treat him like this!"

"It will be okay, Dex" he whispered again.

"I can do whatever the fuck I want! What? Are you going to stop me? No, you're not. You lived with a man who beat you and your kid for eight years, you're not smart enough to tell a guy when to quit!"

"Let him go!" Mommy cried. Brian felt his shirt rip, as he was hoisted into the air.

"Now then, Brian, your Mom says you can read. Is it true?" Brian didn't move. "You won't read at school, but can you?"

"Answer him, Brian. Just answer him"

"Yes" Brian whimpered.

"Yes you can read?"

"Yes"

"Okay, you've made your point, now put him down!" Mommy moved forward but Bentley pushed her back, shaking Brian a little.

"Prove it." Bentley went into the other room, carrying the unresisting child under his arm. He picked up a children's book and sat down, pulling Brian onto his knee. "Read."

"No."

"I said read, goddammit!" The man screamed, pulling Brian's ear close to his mouth.

"No."

"No? I can see why your Daddy beat on you, kid. You're bad is what you are. And your Mom's as pathetic as you. Get off me" he pushed Brian hard off his knee onto the floor. Mommy pulled him close, sobbing. He stood up and left the room, shouting "you should look at the special school for him. Little freak." The door slammed and Mommy wailed.

"I'm sorry" Brian hardly moved his lips.

"No. You should never be sorry! It's not your fault, Brian! Not if they're bigger and stronger than you. It's never your fault if someone hurts you."

"Then why do you keep letting them?" He whispered.

"What? Oh God..." She choked on her sob and she pulled her son's head into her chest. Dexter started crying from the other room. Brian pushed her away and went to his brother.


	6. Chapter 6

It was a Thursday when the family of three went to see Harry Morgan.

"I'm frightened, Harry. You have to help me!"

"I am helping you. You're perfectly safe, I promise." The man covered the microphone and smiled widely. "I swore I'd protect you. And soon, when this is all over, we'll go away together, you and me and your boys. I'll raise them like my own sons. Just think of it. We'll leave The States. We'll go to Italy, or Argentina, and we will be so happy it will make everyone sick."

"Okay Harry. What do I need to do now?"

The grown ups talked for an hour, but it seemed like even longer to Brian and Dexter. Brian sat on the floor under the table and fiddled with his hands. Dexter sat on Mummy's lap and leant his head on her chest, looking intently at Harry with a somber expression. He didn't know what was going on. Brian listened, though, and he half understood. Mummy was in danger. This man was going to protect her. She needed to hang on a little longer. She needed to lull some other men into a false sense of security. And then she needed to hand them over to the police. It sounded like a spy mission.


	7. Chapter 7

The shipping container was dark. Brian still didn't know how they had got there. Mommy was holding Dexter, and Brian was gripping her hand tightly. The three men were discussing something in the other corner. They looked scary, like the bad guys on TV. Two men Brian didn't know were trying to kick their way out of the back of the container. Mommy was muttering under her breath, asking God and Harry for help. She was afraid. And that made Brian afraid. Dexter was chocking on his sobs, as though he knew he shouldn't make too much noise. The men turned, revving up their chainsaws. Brian leant against the wall covering his ears, his knees pulled up close to his chest. Dexter wouldn't shut his eyes. No matter how much Mommy pleaded. Brian shut his. He knew what was happening. And he didn't want to see. The two strangers went first, in a mess of sticky blood and screaming. The more they screamed, the more Mommy cried.

"Not in front of my baby, please!"

Dexter cried and cried. Brian couldn't. He buried his face between his knees. Dexter watched.

"Not in front of my baby"

Just the one baby. It was Brian's last thought before the man turned to Mommy and brought the chain saw down on her shoulder. The arc of liquid spurted into his face when the chainsaw cut into Mommy. He heard the tortured scream from Mommy and the terrified cries from the toddler. He could feel the hot blood dripping from his hair onto his closed eyelids. Dexter didn't stop crying. When it was finished, when Mommy was in small pieces, scattered around them, and the blood was deep enough to cover Brian's whole feet, up to his ankles, the men turned to leave. The shortest one came back as the others were about to close the door.

"I'll call the police in a couple of days, when we're well away. They'll come for you."

"You're going to leave us here?" Brian knew the answer already.

"Just for a little while. It'll be okay."

"No it won't." Brian rested his head back on his knees, and the man backed out. They shut the doors behind them, and all was dark, silent but for Dexter's sobs.


	8. Chapter 8

After four hours, Dexter was asleep against Brian. They were both soaked in blood. Brian held his hand. He tried not to look at the chunks of flesh floating in the four inches of cold blood. But his eyes were drawn there. At one point, Mommy's hand floated towards them. Her nails were painted different colours, just like they always were. Brian reached out and touched the hand, pulling it closer. He held Dexter's hand and Mommy's hand, and for a small moment, he could imagine that it wasn't real. But then the burn of thirst would hit his throat again and he would be dragged back to reality.

After 17 hours, they had lost track of time. Brian kept hearing noises outside, but he didn't think they were real. Why was no one coming for them? He should be in school. They would be missing him. He was hungry. Dexter wouldn't stop crying. The noise hurt his head, grating in his ears. But still he kept hold of his brother's hand. Hunger burned his stomach as badly as it had done when he was small and the monster wouldn't let him eat if he was bad. Dexter had never been hungry like that. Brian waited until Dexter fell back asleep, and then dipped his hand into the blood. It was cold. He cupped some in his hand and raised it to his mouth. Swallowing his revulsion, he slurped it up and let it run down his throat. He drank until he wasn't thirsty any more.


	9. Chapter 9

The doors opened in a rush of too bright Miami sunlight. Harry Morgan stood there, silhouetted in the frame of the container. He swore and splashed into the room. Brian looked up, but Harry turned away from him. Dexter's eyes widened in fear as Harry picked him up. Their hands broke apart.

"DEXTER," Brian shouted "don't leave me! Please don't leave me here!"

"Someone else, get in there, now!" Harry shouted as he exited the container.

"Dexter! Come back! Don't leave me!"

"Now!" Harry roared.

"DEXTER!" Another officer ran in and picked Brian up. But by the time he had got out, Harry was gone. And Dexter had gone with him.

The boys were taken to different hospitals. Harry held Dexter's hand the whole time. Brian was left alone. Dexter was promised ice cream and television when they got back to his new home. Brian was visited by a social worker who told him that he would be transferred to a care home for trauma victims pending further assessment as soon as he was cleared by the doctor. When they found blood in his stomach, a doctor called the social worker and told them to rush his mental health check. Harry was told to keep an eye on his brave, special little boy.

Brian was discharged the next day, after being pumped with fluids and nutrients. He hadn't said a word to anyone except whispering "Dexter" over and over and over again. He was driven to a white house near Miami beach, where a nice looking lady tried to hug him. He wouldn't be hugged. He kept asking for his brother. All they said was that he was with the police. Brian knew that meant Harry.


	10. Chapter 10

Two days after their rescue, both boys were assessed by the mental health services and questioned by the police as the only witnesses to a triple homicide. Dexter was confused. He didn't even seem to remember. He ate the cookie he was offered. He talked freely about his new bedroom and his new Mom and Dad. But when they brought up his old life, he closed down. He didn't want to talk about Before The Morgans. There was nothing Before The Morgans.

"I promised Mommy I'd stay with Dexter. I'm not saying anything until I've seen Dexter." He sat with his arms crossed over his chest, tears threatening to fall, his lip wobbling. The psychiatrist reached a hand towards him across the table and placed it on the wood in front of him. He scooted his chair away.

"Dexter is safe. He's with his foster family. We need to find you a foster family too, but we can't do that until you've talked to us. Please Brian?" She smiled.

"I don't want a foster family! I want Dexter and I want my Mommy!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, jumping up and tipping over his chair. The psychiatrist took notes.

The next day, Brian did not open his mouth. Not to eat, not to drink, and especially not to speak. He was used to being hungry, and he didn't care. Not if it got him to Dexter. Nine days after he had been rescued from the shipping container, his social worker drove him to the police station. He was taken into a little room and the door was shut. He tried to open it and it was not locked. He always checked. After a few minutes, the right hand wall lit up and revealed a one way mirror into another room. Brian could see Dexter, playing happily with Harry and Doris Morgan. He looked well fed. Clean. Almost happy. Enjoying the toys anyway. He called Harry Dad. Brian didn't mind that. But it was when his baby brother asked Mom to pass the Lego that he snapped. That woman was not Dexter's Mom. She never would be. How dare she even try! Brian hammered on the glass, but the family didn't notice. He smashed his fist over and over and over into the window, tears streaming down his face, screaming for his brother. No one heard him, and he cried until there were no more tears.


	11. Chapter 11

They took him to a group home. There were five boys already there and he was the youngest. The social worker dropped him off, and stayed for the tour of his new home. The house mother seemed lovely. She smelled of fresh sourdough and melted butter. She steered them up the stairs and into a room with rocket ship decor.

"This is your room, sweetheart. We got you some new jeans and a couple of t-shirts and a sweater. I'm afraid they'll be a little big for you, we got all size 6-7. You are seven, aren't you?" Brian nodded once. It had been his birthday the day after they were rescued from the container. He'd forgotten. Everyone had. "Do you like your room?" He nodded once more.

"I'm going to say goodbye now, Brian. You behave for Mrs Goodman, and do everything she says. You'll meet the other boys soon, I'm sure."

"Say goodbye, Brian." Mrs Goodman patted his head. Brian didn't say goodbye. The social worker left. Mrs Goodman went down stairs to see her out. Brian didn't move. Mrs Goodman came upstairs, back into Brian's room. She didn't look as nice anymore. "Another one!" She huffed. "And you're a retard too. Aren't you?" Brian didn't move. "Well, aren't you?" She shouted.

"No," Brian whispered.

"Look, you can talk. Maybe you're not completely hopeless. I'm told you saw your mother die. Torn to pieces, actually. And that you drank her blood. You're a twisted little sicko, aren't you? Aren't you?"

"No."

"You are what I say you are! Understand?" She raised her voice. Brian nodded once. "Now, let me show you to your real room." He looked around, confused. "You didn't think you'd be allowed to sleep here, did you? This room is for display only. You're lucky you've even been inside. Follow me." He didn't move, staring at his shoes. "I said FOLLOW ME!" She bellowed. Brian jumped and flinched away from the hand that grabbed his arm and yanked him forward. He stumbled along behind her and followed up a narrow staircase leading into an attic separated into six cubicles. In five of the cubicles there were single beds with no sheet, pillow or duvet, and a boy. In the sixth, there was simply a bed. Mrs Goodman shoved Brian towards the empty bed and left the room. The largest boy, who looked about eleven, stood up and came over to Brian.

"You the new kid?" Brian nodded. "I'm Zander Bush, and I'm in charge up here. You do as I say. Since you're the new, you make sure everything is clean and tidy. If it's not, I'll beat you and then the old lady will beat you harder. Got it?" Brian nodded again.

"Do you talk?" Another boy asked. Brian shook his head. "Can you?" He nodded. "I'm Jamie."

"Hi" Brian whispered. He sat down on his new bed and looked around glumly. The room was dark and empty and grey and he hated Mrs Goodman and Zander and Harry Morgan and he wanted Dexter. The more he thought of Dexter, the closer he came to tears. But he blocked them from exiting his eyes. Mommy would want him to be strong. To be brave. So he would be.


End file.
